Clop, clop, clop... clop, clop, clop...
The sound of swift hooves echoed, though it didn't seem like the horse was running very fast.
An old horse was trotting along the road, its hooves gleefully kicking up dust when it suddenly began to slow down. Not far ahead, a cluster of wildflowers grew from the dirt cracks on the roadside. The horse stretched its neck and leaned forward, its head getting closer as it eagerly licked the flowers. Just as it was about to bite down, something suddenly pulled at its neck, forcing it to break away from its beloved wildflowers.
This was such a tender little flower!
The horse stretched its neck even further, its loose lips curling as its old teeth ground together with a loud crunch. Its tongue reached out desperately to lick the flower, but after struggling for two breaths against the mysterious force holding it back, the old horse decided to give it one last try.
With a sudden swing of its hooves, the horse braced itself, ready for the classic "hungry horse pounces" move...
Howl... Eh?
The horse suddenly felt its neck loosen, and the force that had held it in place disappeared. But it was too late. The inertia of its movements sent it hurtling forward, its entire body—along with the person riding it—tumbling headfirst toward the wildflowers.
It desperately dug its hooves into the ground, carving four diagonal grooves in the muddy soil, but a sharp scream rang out from its back as a figure was flung off.
Thud—
Kent, the person riding the horse, crashed to the ground, limbs sprawled out in every direction.
The old horse's eyes lit up. Between Kent's spread legs, the wildflowers were still blooming like a delicate, hazy little blossom. It eagerly salivated, leaning forward with a dreamy expression as it brought its nose close to the flower.
Pffft, pffft, pffft, pffft—
A series of long, muffled farts erupted from Kent's behind, and the old horse, like it had just dived into a dung heap, spun around, dizzy. Its eyes rolled back as its body collapsed, and with a thud, it knelt on the ground, utterly defeated.
"Ah... so comfortable."
Kent, who had just eaten dirt, lay on the ground, thoroughly enjoying the relief as his pent-up farts were finally released. The aching, raw spots on his thighs and other... sensitive areas seemed to feel better, too.
"I told you, old buddy, the first time I let you run wild, and look at you, throwing me off just for a bite." Kent got up in one swift motion, clad in full black armor, moving with surprising agility. "Since you love wildflowers so much, when we get back to the territory, I'll plant the entire hillside with them so you can feast."
The old horse snorted and nudged Kent's chest with its head.
"I never knew you could give me satisfaction points, I'd feed you wildflowers every day if I'd known." Kent patted the horse's head. "You're lucky, old boy, it's winter, and there's still a wildflower."
The old horse shook its head.
"Looks like it'll be a while before they catch up." Kent looked around, peering left and right, seeing that the wilderness was empty. He mysteriously raised his hand, bringing it close to the horse's face. "Old buddy, I've got something cool to show you."
Pffft—
The horse's eyes widened as a dark red flame ignited in Kent's palm.
"Heh heh heh heh heh heh..." Kent grinned mischievously and clenched his fist. The fireball vanished in an instant. He spoke to the horse with a hint of boastfulness, "Do you know what this is? Fireball spell! I unlocked this magic just for the surprise attack on the Blood Hammer camp."
The old horse stared at him with wide eyes.
"I spent a whole two thousand satisfaction points just to get this," Kent opened his palm again, and the dark red flame reignited. He smugly showed it to the horse. "Do you know how hard it is to gather so many satisfaction points... just watch."
With a wave of his hand, the fireball flew toward the roadside.
"Impressive, right? I can throw it!" He clapped his hands and flashed a proud look at the old horse.
Boom—
"Ah—"
A loud explosion and a scream echoed from the sparse forest.
Kent and the old horse flinched at the same time and exchanged a look with expressions that clearly read, "What have we gotten ourselves into?"
What could they do?
Kent rushed toward the woods, the old horse trotting behind him with small, hurried steps.
A smell of something burnt wafted through the air.
Up ahead, thick branches of oak trees stretched across the path. Beyond them, a massive figure sat on the ground, facing away from Kent. The figure's large head was completely blackened, having been directly hit by the fireball, and smoke still rose from it.
And near the fire, there was a toppled pot and spilled meat broth everywhere.
The giant, who had been knocked out of his wits by the fireball, groaned as he turned around. His innocent white eyes stared at Kent and the old horse. The giant was incredibly large, his clothes made of various animal furs stitched together like a giant puzzle. Even seated, he was nearly as tall as Kent.
It was obvious that this was a member of the Giant Tribe, a rare group from the highlands that Kent had only seen from afar but never interacted with.
"Don't come any closer!" The giant gritted his teeth and rubbed his scorched head. Seeing Kent, he shouted, "Be careful of the lightning! I was struck by lightning just now..."
Lightning?
Kent and the old horse exchanged another glance, both understanding that the look in their eyes clearly said, "We're not admitting to anything."
"You blasted fool!" Kent pointed angrily at the sky, "Others are trying to enjoy their meal, and you're calling down lightning? Even if you strike lightning, can't you avoid hitting someone on the head? And don't strike the soup pot—those things take forever to cook..." His sympathetic gaze landed on the giant's blackened face. "Right, big guy?"
Giant's satisfaction points: +20, +20, +20.
Easy pickings! Kent couldn't help but give himself a mental high five.
"Ha ha, little guy, I love hearing you talk," the giant grinned, showing a mouthful of large white teeth. "I'm Fatty Ding, but you can just call me Fatty. Are you an adventurer?"
"Hello, Fatty. I'm Kent, a lord," Kent greeted with a friendly smile.
"A lord? A noble?" The giant looked surprised. His posture immediately stiffened, and he sat up straighter, his massive fingers covertly pushing the overturned pot of broth behind him. "Respect, respect..."
"No need to be formal, Fatty. Just treat me like any other adventurer," Kent waved away the giant's formalities and boldly walked over to his side. He looked at the spilled meat chunks near the fire, feeling a pang of regret for the lost meal. He swallowed and smiled. "Are there still any leftovers?"
Giant's satisfaction points: +20, +20, +20.
This really worked? Kent was stunned for a moment—this giant was surprisingly easy to please.
"Sure, little guy. I've got plenty to share," the giant said with a big grin, clearly in a good mood.